


Righteous Man

by Freedoms_Champion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Powers (Supernatural), Angel/Human Relationships, M/M, POV First Person, Soulmates, early season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedoms_Champion/pseuds/Freedoms_Champion
Summary: In the early days of the Apocalypse, Cas reflects on Dean Winchester, the human with an angel for a soulmate. So far, Cas isn't sure he's done a good job. Still, it's a humbling responsibility and there's nothing more precious than a human soul.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Righteous Man

**Author's Note:**

> I've been re-watching season 5 and now my brain wants to look at how Dean and Cas see each other!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Comments welcome and have a fantastic day!

Humans perplex me. I’ve kept watch over them for more than 2,000 years and so much about them is still puzzling and difficult to understand. So many of them are selfish and vicious, spending their short lives concerned with nothing but their own success. The few that attempt to help others are usually motivated by insecurities and a desire for the praise of their peers.

None of them confuse me more than Dean Winchester.

From the moment I held his soul in my hands, I knew there was something different about him. I’d never seen a soul more scarred from the torture demons had inflicted on him. Only when I inhabited a Vessel did it become plain why Dean’s soul was so strange. No other human had ever been the soulmate of an angel.

It is the duty of Heaven to ensure humans have proper soulmates. I was a soldier, not one of the cherubim, so I didn’t know beforehand that I was Dean’s. Nothing in my long life had prepared me for the responsibility. The purpose of a soulmate is to support and complement the strengths and weaknesses of each pair.

My orders made the situation worse. It was my duty to God to prepare Dean and make him ready for the Apocalypse. At the last moment I learned that my commanders intended to allow the end of days to come. Dean was meant to be the Vessel of Michael and slay his brother in battle. I couldn’t let that happen.

To stop the end of days, I was ready to give my life. I Fell and disobeyed the orders of Heaven and stood before the avenging power of an archangel, all in hope that Dean could save the world.

We failed.

“I’m sorry, Dean. There’s very little I can do to prevent the things that are coming,” I said. His necklace shouldn’t have been a weight around my neck, but I could feel it there. I knew the history of this talisman, knew how hard it was for Dean to lend it to me. Vowing to keep it safe was easy, compared to some other things I’ve done for him.

“Quit apologizing, man. We’ll figure something out.”

The bright hospital lights threw the dark circles under his eyes into hard relief. Even bereft of most of the power of Heaven, I could hear the lie in his voice. It tingled against my spine in a phantom chill.

“Dean, you must have faith. I will find God. My Father cannot want any of this to happen.” Faith hadn’t done me any good, but Dean was human. Maybe it meant more if he could believe.

He scoffed, barely more than an exhaled breath. Denial pulsed through the song of his soul. The discordant notes hurt to hear. I put a hand on his shoulder. Even through layers of cloth, I could feel the handprint I had left on him when I raised him from Hell. Dean’s soul mark, my name, lay in the unscarred flesh where my palm hadn’t rested.

Dean’s soul shimmered at my touch. It still amazed me that humans could be so unaware of their own souls. From his expression, he had no idea that the very core of his being had lifted its voice in exultation from the simple joy of a soulmate’s touch.

The corners of Dean’s bright green eyes wrinkled as he pulled up a smile. That was his brave face, the one he showed people when he felt that he’d revealed too much of his true self. I knew most other angels felt their blood boil at that sarcastic smirk and the deception behind it, but it only made me feel sorrow. Dean’s soul had too many scars inflicted by the lies of his life. Surely, he could be honest to his soulmate, however poor of one I was.

“Faith, huh, Cas? I think I’ve showed enough faith for one day.”

Ah, humor. Yet another dizzying human reflex that only complicates dealing with them. I can tell when humor is being employed, but the falsehood of it frequently impairs my ability to understand it. Of course, most human humor relies on referencing works of media, which I have not experienced. That makes it harder.

“One day at a time, then,” I agreed and smiled. Facial expressions are so complicated. For most of my existence, I haven’t had a face or the need to share my thoughts by any means other than thinking.

Dean huffed out another breath, this one colored with amusement. I knew because his soul rang with a purer version, just as magical as the laughter of a child.

I squeezed his shoulder carefully, knowing I could crush his bones if I was careless. “I’ll be in touch, Dean. As soon as I find anything, you’ll know it.”

“Don’t let those flying mooks kill you again,” Dean replied. I felt honored at his concern. For months, I’d felt like a failure of a soulmate. Every flash of derision and rebellion from Dean had cemented my certainty that the cherubim had made a mistake connecting us and inflated my doubts. It had been uncomfortable. It might be the end of the world, but at least I was slowly learning how to properly support Dean.

I lifted my wings and left him in the hospital to look after his damaged brother and wounded friend, wishing there was more I could do to help.


End file.
